


Return Things That You Borrow Even If It Takes You Ten Years

by Garowyn



Category: Gintama
Genre: Comedy, Gen, General, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26323414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garowyn/pseuds/Garowyn
Summary: Katsura wants to play his favourite Famicom game, Space Invasion, but the game cartridge is missing. Then, Katsura realizes that he hasn’t actually seen the cartridge for quite some time. Thus, the telephone journey to track down the last borrower of his beloved game cartridge begins, and as friends and enemies alike will discover, 2 AM is neither too late nor too early for a call from your friendly, neighbourhood Zura—“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura!”
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Return Things That You Borrow Even If It Takes You Ten Years

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Gintama or video game/other pop culture references. 
> 
> This little idea came from a random scene in one of my unpublished and unrelated Gintama romance fics. Decided to expand on that idea. Space Invasion is a parody of Space Invaders with a little Galaxian thrown in. This fic is also pure nonsense, something I felt like writing before I return to my usual drama and angst and introspection.

After a long night spent fleeing the Shinsengumi, Katsura finally reached his neighbourhood, spotting a familiar line of rooftops in the moonlight. He descended silently and swiftly, stealing away inside his apartment before anyone could notice him. 

Elizabeth was already back, having returned first after he told her to run in the opposite direction in order to confuse and divide the Shinsengumi. Tucked away in her futon, Elizabeth held up a sign: _Welcome back._

“It is good to be home,” Katsura said, peering through the curtains in case he hadn’t managed to elude a pursuer. “Although, as a samurai, my home is always the battlefield.” 

_I’m going to sleep. Good night._

“Good night, Elizabeth.” Satisfied that no one had followed him home, Katsura released the curtain with a yawn. He thought he might turn in as well when he remembered that it was Friday night – or Saturday morning now, but there was still time enough to continue with a Friday night tradition.

Smiling to himself, Katsura went to his closet and dug out a box of Famicom video game cartridges, lovingly preserved over the years. Setting the box and himself down in front of the television, where the Famicom was always hooked up, Katsura began browsing his collection for his most favourite game of all, _Space Invasion_.

After a minute spent searching through the box, Katsura discover, to his utter horror, that the cartridge for _Space Invasion_ was missing. 

“Elizabeth, have you seen _Space Invasion?_ ” Katsura asked, deciding that maybe he oughtn’t jump to conclusions just yet. Perhaps it was simply misplaced. 

Elizabeth held up a sign: _No._

“Are you sure?” Katsura pressed, going through the cartridges again, hoping that by chance he had overlooked it in his initial search. “You came back before I did. 

_I’m trying to sleep. Play another game._

“I will not be able to sleep until I have won at least three rounds,” Katsura said, expecting her to understand. “It is customary to play _Space Invasion_ on Friday nights, as it is one of the few hobbies I indulge in when I am not leading a revolution. It is a tradition as sacred as our Wednesday Kamishibai Mornings.”

_Shut up, I’m trying to sleep._

“ _Humph._ There is no need to be rude, Elizabeth,” Katsura said, narrowing his eyes at Elizabeth’s snoozing form. “If it is not here, then someone must have borrowed it.”

The first person that came to mind was Gintoki. Katsura snapped his fingers – _of course_. Gintoki always borrowed with a poor track record of returns. Gintoki had enjoyed the game as much as he had, for they used to spend hours playing together, trying to eliminate all of the enemy starships across the different _Space Invasion_ levels whenever they experienced a respite during the War. 

_You had a Famicom during the War?_

“It was all we could afford. Our enemies had the Famicom 64, and they used to challenge us to tournaments they knew we could not win because we had different controllers.” Katsura got up to call Gintoki from his telephone, but then found that the wheel on his dial had cracked again, most likely from the time he had angrily phoned in to complain about a new nmaibo flavour that tasted terrible compared to the original. “Elizabeth, we need to buy another telephone.”

 _Not another rotary model_ , Elizabeth signed, _You’re the only one who still uses that kind of phone._

“What do you mean I am the only one? Have people stopped using phones altogether?”

 _They use updated telephones, as well as these._ Elizabeth produced a cellphone from her mouth and handed it to him. _I already took the liberty of adding contacts from your address book._

“What a strange device,” Katsura murmured, inspecting the cell phone all around. “And what is this peculiar chain hanging from it? There is even a miniature duck attached to it.”

_A mascot keychain. It’s a popular one right now._

“I see…” Katsura flipped open the cellphone and frowned at the miniature buttons and glowing screen with a background photo consisting of more ducks that resembled his comrade. Elizabeth signed a quick tutorial for simple operation, and within minutes, Katsura could navigate through the menu.

His first order of business was to call Gintoki. After locating and selecting Gintoki’s name on the contact list, Katsura pressed the phone to his ear and listened to the rings. There was no answer after four rings, and the answering machine came on immediately. Katsura ended the call and tried again.

Gintoki picked up on the third ring. “Whoever this is, you better have a damn good reason for waking me up at 2 in the morning after a night of pachinko—I mean, meditation.”

“It’s not Whoever, it’s Katsura. And it is good to know you are finally meditating on your life’s purpose before bed, as a samurai should.”

“Huh? Zura? Is it really you?” Gintoki said through a yawn.

“It’s not Zura, it’s Kat—”

“Shut up! I’m too tired to put up with that tired old gag!”

“You borrowed _Space Invasion_ from me, did you not? I am missing the Famicom cartridge for it. I would be most pleased if you would return it.”

“ _Space Invasion?_ What? I haven’t played on a Famicom since the War. _Nobody’s_ played Famicom since the War. Get with the times, Zura!”

“It is incorrect to say that nobody has played Famicom since the War when _I_ have been playing Famicom since the War, so it is more like _few_ people have played Famicom since the War rather than _nobody_ —”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!” Gintoki blew an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I did borrow _Space Invasion_ , but that was twelve years ago, and I already gave it back.”

Katsura frowned, trying to remember if this was true or not. “Are you sure? If you had returned it, then it would not be missing.”

“I returned it! I’m hanging up now. Don’t call again unless you want me to come over there and kick your ass.” _Click._

Katsura stared at Gintoki’s name on the screen and gave a small sigh. He was about to call up another old friend when the phone rang. It was Gintoki. Picking up, Katsura said, “Hello, did you remember now that you neglected to return my game cartridge?”

“Actually, I just realized…I think I lent it to Tatsuma. Ten years ago. Before he went into space.”

Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, Katsura tried to keep calm and asked, “Are you telling me that you not only borrowed _Space Invasion_ but kept it for two whole years, and then lent it to someone else without asking me first?”

“You claim to love this game so much, and yet you didn’t even notice that I had it for that long. Who’s the idiot now? And who’s the bigger idiot for choosing not to play a remastered version of an outdated game on an updated game system instead?”

“I do not wish to answer that question,” Katsura replied, annoyance touching his tone, “I will call Sakamoto. Good night, Gintoki.”

It was rather late, Katsura conceded, looking at the numbers in the corner of the screen: 2:04 AM. But the adrenaline-fueled escape through the city had left him too wide awake to consider sleep right now. In fact, he had been counting on _Space Invasion_ to lull him into a deep slumber with its unorthodox melodies and the patterned sound effects. And now that he was well aware of _Space Invasion's_ missing-in-action status, he didn’t think he could sleep until he tracked down its location.

“An important lesson, Elizabeth,” Katsura said, finding Sakamoto’s name on the list, “Always return things that you borrow from others. Keeping it longer than the allotted time given to you would be discourteous and an abuse of privilege.”

Calling Sakamoto would involve a higher fee for each minute spent in conversation. Most likely the man was out in space somewhere, beyond Earth’s standard time zones, so it didn’t matter what time Katsura called, as long as he kept the call short, no more than three minutes. 

Three rings and Sakamoto picked up. “—hahaha, hello? Hello?”

“Sakamoto, I am going to make this quick,” Katsura said, “Do you have my _Space Invasion_ game cartridge from ten years ago?”

“Oh, Zura! Hahaha! How are you? It’s been forever since you called!”

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura. I am fine, and I called you two weeks ago, and you borrowed a game from Gintoki ten years ago. That game belongs to me. Do you have it?”

“You called two weeks ago? I don’t remember. Oi, Mutsu – did Zura call two weeks ago?”

“Sakamoto, this is a very expensive call. Just answer the question.”

“Right, right, those data rates are high when it comes to off planet calls! Ahahaha! Hahaha! We’re currently in the Alderaan system, looking for the planet, Alderaan, but all I see is a bunch of asteroids.”

“ _Space Invasion_ has an asteroid level. So, do you have the cartridge or not?”

“There’s a space invasion? Hmm, could be, ahahaha, hahaha! Say, Mutsu, what is that? Is that a moon?”

Katsura struggled to keep his temper in check, tried not to squeeze the phone so hard. “Sakamoto…”

“Ahahaha, hahaha, it looks like a moon—wait…wait!” Sakamoto gasped, and then shouted into the receiver, “That’s not a moon – that’s a space station!” A chorus of voices exploded on the other end, presumably the bridge crew responding to the urgent situation at hand. “Zura, I’m going to have to call you back! They have us locked in a tractor beam!”

“Quickly, then! Where is _Space Invasion??_ ”

“I lent it to Takasugi! Five years ago!”

“Takasugi?!”

“I only have the number he last contacted me from! It’s—”

Katsura committed the number to memory, murmuring the numbers to himself, all the while listening to the chaos in the background of Sakamoto’s voice.

“—but the last three digits are either 810 or 108! I don’t remember which!” Sakamoto’s voice took on a panicked pitch, as all manner of alarms blared in the background. “Zura! They’re pulling us in!!”

“It’s not Zura, it’s Kenobi! I mean Katsura!”

“Zuraaaaa!! Live long and prosper—wait, wrong franchise, ahahaha—” The line went dead.

 _“Sakamotooooo!!”_ Katsura’s voice rang clear in the dead silence of his apartment.

Elizabeth whacked his head with a sign: _SHUT UP. Go do your parodies somewhere else._

“May the Force be with you, Sakamoto,” Katsura said quietly, and then dialed the number purportedly belonging to Takasugi, starting with 108. Last Katsura had heard, the Kiheitai used several different phone numbers to carry out their business, keeping in line with the latest technology but also skillfully dodging those who would trace the calls back to any Kiheitai member. Takasugi might answer, or one of his loyal subordinates would.

After one ring, an automated greeting with a familiar youthful tone came on: “You have reached the Shinsengumi Administrative Department. If this is an emergency, hang up and call…”

Katsura almost hung up on instinct, but lingered to hear the rest of the greeting, curious about the Shinsengumi’s phone menu.

“…available between the hours of 0800 and 1600. Please listen closely, as our options have changed. For Archives, press 1. To insult Hijikata, press 2. To humiliate Hijikata, press 3. To maim Hijikata, press 4. To offer ideas on how to demote Hijikata, press 5. To leave angry voicemail messages on Hijikata’s personal cell number, press 6…”

Katsura listened to the end and found that none of the options were helpful in the slightest. No wonder the Shinsengumi were constantly teetering on the edge of pandemonium. He pressed 5 and left a voice message – “Die, Shinsengumi!” – and then hung up, deciding not to worry about them tracing the call until morning arrived, and then he would go change his phone number again. 

This time, he dialed the other combination, and waited through four rings before somebody picked up.

An impatient woman Katsura recognized as Kijima Matako the Red Bullet answered, “If this is another telemarketer, go and die!!”

“It’s not Telemarketer, it’s Katsura.”

“Oh, it’s you. The long-haired idiot.”

“It’s not long-haired idiot, it’s—” Katsura sighed. “Never mind that. Let me speak to Takasugi. It is a matter of urgent importance.”

“Shinsuke-sama is busy right now, and even if he wasn’t, why should I let you talk to him or anyone else here? You interfered with our plans last time!”

“I do not remember which plan that was, but it hardly matters now.”

“It does to me!”

“Where is Takasugi? He borrowed _Space Invasion_ from Sakamoto, who borrowed it from Gintoki, who borrowed it from me. And I would like it back now.”

“What the hell? A stupid game is the reason you’re calling at 2 in the morning??”

“Evidently, you are still awake, so it stands to reason that 2 AM is not an unreasonable time to call for a matter of urgent importance.”

“I never go to sleep until Shinsuke-sama does—I mean, screw that! I’m hanging up right now, I—huh? What?” Matako’s voice grew muffled with a deeper voice joining her in the background. 

Eventually, someone else came onto the line and said, “Katsura Koutarou?”

Kawakami Bansai, famed assassin and music lover of the Kiheitai. “Good evening—”

“It is far past the evening, I daresay,” Bansai replied in a neutral voice, despite Matako’s background complaints, “I understand you wish to speak to Shinsuke about a lost item?”

“Yes,” Katsura said, “Yes, I do. You see, my favourite game, _Space Invasion_ , was lent to Gintoki, who then lent it to Sakamoto, who then lent it to Takasugi. It is courteous to return things that you borrow. Takasugi should have lent it back to Sakamoto, who should have lent it back to Gintoki, who then should have returned it to me as he ought to have in the first place – at which point I would then lend it out to the next person who asked.”

“I see.”

“So, you understand that after learning my favourite game has been missing from my possession for over twelve years that I would like it returned to me?”

“Yes, I can sense a note of discontent lurking beneath a refined symphony with flickering chords of dissonance from an electric guitar,” Bansai said, “You are simultaneously avant-garde and traditional. You are soaring far ahead of your time and yet somehow always running behind it.”

“It’s not avant-garde, it’s Katsura.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” 

“It’s a gag, it’s a joke!” Matako could be heard saying in the background with an exasperated sigh. “Senpai, hang up on him already!”

Bansai cleared his throat, and said, “Well, then, Katsura Koutarou – I daresay I have an inkling on the whereabouts of your missing video game.”

Katsura sat up straighter, eager to find out.

“Three years ago, Shinsuke entered his favourite floating restaurant to meet with a friend he had not seen in quite a while. His name was… Ah, his name… Shinsuke called him…” Bansai paused for a long moment, and then said, “Matako, what was his name again? That forgettable fellow?”

“Hell if I know! I know exactly who you’re talking about, and if I remembered his name, I’d track him down and kill him for interfering in our mission last time!”

“I also know the friend of whom you speak of,” Katsura cut in, not too surprised by the fact that Takasugi kept in contact with one of his closest friends during the War. “His name is Kuroko Tetsuya—”

Elizabeth slapped him with her sign: _You can’t remember his name, either!_

“Shinsuke lent your _Space Invasion_ game to that man, and I do remember Shinsuke mentioning that he destroyed all 100 levels of the game much like he plans to destroy this corrupt world.”

Katsura gasped. “Impossible! No one has ever been able to go beyond Level 99, the highest obtained level that only I have reached within our circle.”

“It is quite possible, I daresay, although I only reached Level 47 myself.”

“I reached Level 50!” Matako chimed in with vicious glee. 

Still absorbing this shocking and potentially untrue news of Takasugi reaching the coveted Level 100, Katsura said, “Thank you for your assistance. I will call our mutual friend now.” He ended the call quickly before Matako had a chance to issue another threat, and then scrolled through his contacts for Kurokono’s number.

 _I reached Level 96 last time_ , Elizabeth signed.

“We are getting closer, Elizabeth,” Katsura said with a grin, “Closer to getting _Space Invasion_ back. We are following the trail of clues through the maze and gobbling them all up with P*c-Man-like expertise.”

As he waited for Kurokono to pick up, Katsura thought about how it had been several months since the Old Joui reunion. The details of how Katsura had acquired Kurokono’s phone number after that were fuzzy, but it was handy to have an instant connection with a former comrade. Kurokono was hardly in the same place time after time, always on the move, pursued by the government on a whim when they remembered his existence. Ever elusive, Kurokono could be the customer on the far side of the counter at the local bar, or the passerby with a kitsune mask at the festivals, or the random neighbour on the ground floor in the apartment near the back alley. Whoever he was and wherever he was, Kurokono would be there when you needed him, a friend who kept to the shadows and watched over his comrades and the country in his own way.

Kurokono picked up after five rings. “Hello, Katsura-san.”

A chill ran down Katsura’s spine. “How did you know it was me?”

“Because the narrative spoke of my omnipresence,” Kurokono answered, “and because your codename appeared on my screen when you called.”

“It’s not Codename, it’s Katsura. Wait – you use a codename for me?”

“Of course,” Kurokono answered with a smile in his voice, “I can’t have my friends easily discovered should an enemy get their hands on my phone.”

“What is my codename?”

“Arsène Lupin II.”

Katsura smiled at that. “Interesting. What about the others?”

“Kintaro, Space Cowboy, and Yakult.”

Chuckling, Katsura said, “How clever. I never would have guessed that Gintoki was Space Cowboy.”

“Uh, actually—”

“Now then, as you may have learned from the narrative, my _Space Invasion_ game is missing. I lent it to Gintoki twelve years ago, and he lent it to Sakamoto ten years ago, and then Sakamoto lent it to Takasugi five years ago, and now I have learned that Takasugi lent it to you three years ago, so that means—”

“Gintoki-san asked to borrow it a year ago.”

Katsura’s mouth froze open, as the words echoed in his years. “What did you say?”

“My apologies, Katsura-san. I wasn’t going to be passing through Edo for awhile at that time, so I gave him the game on the condition that he return it to you right away. I take it he hasn’t done so yet?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Katsura pursed his lips before answering, “No, he has most certainly not.”

“Ah, that’s too bad, but now you know where it is. Good night, Katsura-san.”

“Good night, Kuro…Kura…my Ono K****o-voiced friend.” Katsura spun around and demanded, “Elizabeth! Why did his name get censored out? It sounds as if I am saying something filthy!”

Buried back within her blanket, Elizabeth poked out a sign: _We don’t want to get in trouble with the lawyers._

“It is only a name! It is not as if I am saying ***** or Kijima M*****o.”

His phone rang this time around, and it was the number belonging to the Kiheitai, but he ignored it, for the night was flying by, and he needed to call Gintoki right away.

Gintoki’s sleepy, irritated voice answered, “If this isn’t Ketsuno Ana calling to accept my marriage proposal, then I suggest you hang up before I come through this phone and beat _your_ ass—”

“Gintoki, you have my game!” Katsura almost yelled into the receiver. “I spoke to Kuroba Kaito-kun and he said he lent you _Space Invasion_ a year ago, so you do have it!”

“Oi, that’s a completely different name from what you were supposed to say, isn’t it?? That’s the wrong anime, you moron!”

“Never mind that! Would you please tell me why you said you did not have _Space Invasion_ when, in fact, you _do_ have _Space Invasion_ , but seemed reluctant before to disclose the truth of the matter, which is that you have _always_ had _Space Invasion_ , and that all _Space Invasion_ inquiries lead back to the real culprit—”

“Enough! I can’t follow all that!” Gintoki sighed noisily. “Okay, fine! I forgot I had it.”

Katsura added his own sigh, though one of relief. “Finally. I am coming over right now to get it—”

“But I lent it to Tsukuyo.”

The muffled scream that fought to leave Katsura’s mouth was peppered with censor beeps, as he struggled to keep from waking Elizabeth again. 

“Calm down, don’t get your T*tris blocks out of order! It was just temporary,” Gintoki said, “Yoshiwara has no video games for kids, so instead of letting Seita-kun believe ‘racy’ means race cars, I said I had an old game that was more appropriate for his age level. Listen, I’ll give you her number. She’ll be awake for sure, the Hyakka never miss a night patrol.”

“Gintoki…this is exactly why I was reluctant to lend you _Space Invasion_ in the first place,” Katsura said, scowling deeply, “If not this, then a brush because you forgot yours for class – and you lost it! Or my favourite spinning top, which I never saw again! Or my scarf because you claimed you were less hot-blooded compared to the rest of us humans, and then you wore it all winter—”

“Sensei gave you a brand-new brush, I forgot to tell you that I broke your top, and you knew my neck was sensitive to the cold! I wore that scarf every day, all day, even while I slept! You had the benefit of long hair – long enough to be its own scarf. You have a built-in scarf! And, anyway, who are you, my mother? So I forgot to return a few things, big deal! Hell, I bet you’ve forgotten to return things before.”

“Name one thing.”

“How about that—no.” Gintoki paused. “Wait, I know, you forgot—no, you returned that. Then what about—ah, screw it! I’m not answering anymore questions until my lawyer is present!” 

This conversation would go nowhere. Katsura sighed and said, “Enough. I will take Tsukuyo-dono’s number.”

“Here it is—”

“Thank you. And know this,” Katsura added, “You are not allowed to borrow anything from me again for at least five years. After that, I will reconsider your borrowing privileges and ask for references from other people who lend to you.” 

“Suits me,” Gintoki said with an unconcerned yawn, “Nowadays, you don’t have much that I want to borrow, let alone outdated games. Now stop calling me and go dream about widows or something, Zura.”

“It’s not Katsura, it’s ZURAAAA!!!” Katsura jammed the end call button so hard it left an imprint on his thumb. 

Elizabeth held up another sign: _It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura._

“You are correct, Elizabeth,” Katsura said, already dialing Tsukuyo’s number, “I lost my temper and foiled my signature line in the process.” As he listened to the rings drone on, Katsura remarked, “You know, Elizabeth, everyone says I am behind the times because I still play with a Famicom, but clearly everyone still has one since they have been passing my game cartridge around for the last twelve years.”

_Probably because they kept forgetting to return it and tried to dump the chore on others._

“Most people have a Famicom system stored away at the back of their closet. Some people collect them in hopes of their monetary value rising in the future. Others bring them to flea markets or antique shops to sell for a pretty yen. And the few people like myself take good care of them and enjoy them as the entertainment they were meant to be. Whatever the case, the Famicom waits patiently on standby until it is needed.”

_Sort of like you._

“Perhaps they do not want to admit that I, Katsura Kotarou, have caught onto something memorable and timeless,” Katsura continued, and gave Elizabeth a smug smile. “I do not care for the fast-paced, 3D graphic design of newer games with their complicated radars and their candy crushers and their realistic character designs. The best games are the ones that endure decades later, challenging new generations with deceptively simple games that exercise the mind and hone your hand-eye coordination. It is why I am seldom caught off my guard—”

“Who is this?” a voice demanded sharply in his ear, heavy with the Yoshiwara accent.

Touching a hand to his chest at the sudden interruption and willing his heart rate back to normal, Katsura breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Ah, Tsukuyo-dono, good evening.”

 _I’d say you were caught off your guard just now_ , Elizabeth signed.

“Katsura?” Tsukuyo’s voice softened to surprise.

“I received your number from Gintoki. I hope I am not interrupting an important Hyakka mission.”

“No, we just finished catching our tenth criminal of the night.” There was a scream of pain in the background from a man.

“How commendable. Now then, to the reason for my call.” Katsura cleared his throat and began the long tale. “Twelve years ago, Gintoki borrowed my favourite Famicom game, _Space Invasion_. He kept it for two whole years. Then, he lent it to Sakamoto, who gave it to Takasugi five years later. Then, Takasugi passed the game onto another friend of ours, who then said he gave it back to Gintoki, who now claims he lent it to you.”

“I remember the game,” Tsukuyo said, “It was the only child-friendly game Gintoki had when he brought his entire collection over.”

“You have a Famicom, too?” Katsura couldn’t imagine the stern woman playing video games. 

“Hinowa does, but she didn’t know she had one until we cleaned out the back of her closet.” 

“Ah, yes, I expect most people would be surprised when they clean out their closets and find the ageless Famicom on standby,” Katsura said with a chuckle, “Well, I am most pleased to have tracked down _Space Invasion_. I can be in Yoshiwara in ten minutes—”

“I sent it back to Gintoki.”

“No!!” Katsura cried. 

“What do you mean ‘no?’” Tsukuyo asked, and he could almost hear her raise an eyebrow in response. “Seita was unimpressed by the game's graphics, so I decided to return it. Shinpachi said he’d take the game to Gintoki. I was on my way to the Yorozuya when I ran into Otae, and we went out for lunch. Shinpachi then ran into us, and he said he’d take it back to Gintoki.”

“All roads _do_ lead back to Gintoki in the end,” Katsura said between gritted teeth. The night was quickly turning into a frustrating, ridiculous side quest. “But I suppose I had better check with Shinpachi-kun first before I berate Gintoki again.”

“Shinpachi is a responsible kid,” Tsukuyo remarked, “I trust him to have returned it. Had I known it was your game originally, I would’ve returned it back to you instead. I’ll scold Gintoki for you, if you want.”

“I may yet take you up on that offer,” Katsura said, thinking on all the times Ikumatsu had scolded him for ordering soba at her ramen shop. The fear had cured him of a bad habit; it might do the same for Gintoki. “I am going to call Shinpachi-kun now. Good night, Tsukuyo-dono, and may you catch many wrongdoers for the sake of this country.”

“Thank you,” Tsukuyo replied.

A man in the background cried out “It wasn’t me, it was Shinra!” before Tsukuyo hung up.

Katsura scrolled through the contacts for the number to the Koudoukan Dojo. “You know, Elizabeth, I think I am getting the hang of this cell phone business.”

Elizabeth held up a sign: _It’s 2:30 AM. Don’t you think you should go to sleep now?_

“I never sleep on Friday nights until I have played up to Level 10,” Katsura replied, “I simply cannot break a longstanding tradition.”

After a few rings, Shinpachi picked up with a groggy reply, “Hello?”

“Greetings, Shinpachi-kun.”

“Katsura-san?” A yawn. “Is everything all right?”

“No, it is not.”

Shinpachi’s voice grew concerned, as he asked, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Is it Elizabeth?”

“We are unharmed,” Katsura replied, “I am calling you to confirm that you returned _Space Invasion_ back to Gintoki.”

“Huh? _Space Invasion?_ You mean, that game Tsukuyo-san gave to me?”

“You are correct. You see, I lent that game to Gintoki twelve years ago, and then he gave it to Sakamoto two years after that, and then Sakamoto lent the game to Takasugi five years later, and then Takasugi passed the game onto Kurokono-kun – oh, wait, I said the wrong name—” 

Elizabeth waved her sign in the air: _You had it right! You had his name right!_

“—and then he gave it back to Gintoki a year ago, and then he gave it to Tsukuyo-dono, who then passed the game onto you.” Katsura paused to take a breath, feeling very much like he had finally reached the top of the endless stairs in Princess Peach’s Mushroom Castle. “So, I would like to know if you had, indeed, returned it to Gintoki before I call him again.”

“…Uh, Katsura-san? Do you know what time it is?”

Katsura read Elizabeth’s sign and answered, “2:31 AM.”

“You’re calling at 2:31 AM to ask about a video game? Katsura-san, I’m sorry to say this, but…did you hit your head today?”

Thinking back on the day’s events, Katsura replied, “I cannot recall any incident resulting in a cranial injury. Why do you ask?”

“Because I gave that game back to you four days ago.”

For a long moment, Katsura only heard the clock’s ticking in the deep silence of his apartment. 

“Remember?” Shinpachi continued, “We met at the Cybercafe? You were hosting a Joui Q&A on Zeddit? And I gave you back a game that Tsukuyo-san thought belonged to Gin-san?” 

“But…But it is not here!” Katsura stammered, confused, as he began to rummage through his game cartridge collection once more, searching for the elusive _Space Invasion._ “I have searched my entire apartment for it!”

“You might’ve missed it,” Shinpachi replied with another yawn, “The label was peeling from what I can assume is years of overplay and borrowing. You said not to worry because you’d create or buy another label for it. So, I scratched the remains off of it for you while you were busy answering another question. Then I left. Check for a blank cartridge, I bet that’s _Space Invasion._ ”

Throughout Shinpachi’s explanation, Katsura’s fingers had been meticulously sifting through each cartridge again, one by one, until he came across the blank one at the back. Lifting it out, Katsura blew into its underside, clearing out any dust that might interfere with its operation. 

_That’s a myth, actually,_ Elizabeth signed, _but I refuse to believe it has never helped._

Placing into the disk slot, Katsura powered on his Famicom system as well as the television set and waited for the screen to change.

“Well, Katsura-san? Did you find it?”

The opening credits for _Space Invasion_ appeared along with the main theme music. Then, the scrolling text gave way to an infinite sea of stars with a pixelated spaceship flying into view and firing lasers at enemy ships. 

“I found it,” Katsura said, tonelessly. He should be relieved that the game was not missing, for it was like finding the final piece for the Triforce of Wisdom and rejoicing in a quest completed. But all he could think about was lost time and expensive cell fees and probably a vexed friend or two or three. 

“That’s great, Katsura-san!” Shinpachi said, “I’m glad it isn’t missing—huh? Ane-ue? Sorry, did I wake you—”

“Katsura-san,” came Tae’s pleasant-sounding voice with a sliver of irritation mixed within, “Did you call in the middle of the night because of an emergency?”

A shiver ran down Katsura’s neck. He had awoken a truly fearsome woman, indeed. “G-Good evening, Otae-dono…”

“Because if there isn’t an emergency, and you chose to call this house when one of its occupants just got home from a late shift at work and is very much exhausted and in need of sleep, then I will be glad to give you a real emergency to deal with—”

Katsura ended the call before Tae figured out a way to deliver a punch through the power lines. 

_I remember when Shinpachi-kun returned the game to you_ , Elizabeth signed.

Locking onto Elizabeth’s unblinking gaze, Katsura inhaled through his nose and closed his eyes, sitting in silence for several moments, as he contemplated this new information. Then, he quietly asked, “Elizabeth…you knew I had _Space Invasion_ all along?”

_Yes._

“And you chose not to inform me because…?”

 _I would have reminded you_ , Elizabeth signed, _but then I remembered how you lent my hairbrush to the Yorozuya, and they used it on that that Yorozuya mutt._

“Elizabeth…” Katsura reached for a mirror he just happened to have on him and held it up to show Elizabeth her reflection. “You do not have any hair.” 

_That’s not the point, you idiot! It was my hairbrush and you didn’t ask!_

“In fact, you barely have enough feathers to constitute use of a hairbrush,” Katsura went on, “Besides, Sadaharu-kun was in dire need of a brushing, and Leader had misplaced Sadaharu-kun’s own brush. I did not think you would mind.”

_Well, I did mind._

“I apologize, then, Eli…but still…I had no idea you could be so vindictive.” Katsura shook his head in disbelief. “Elizabeth, you were the Final Boss all along.”

Elizabeth, now wearing a wig of bright red hair with a spiked turtle shell on her back, held up a sign: _It’s not Elizabeth, it’s Bowser._

“Well, then…to think I had _Space Invasion_ in my possession the entire time.” Katsura was silent for a moment, and then chuckled. “It is quite amusing to think that I did not need to call anyone at all.”

_I’m not sure the others will find it amusing as you do when they find out you had it all along._

As if on cue, the cell phone started to ring with several calls at once, all from the people he had called during the night. Katsura watched his phone ring three times before he picked it up, flipped it open, and then snapped it in half. “I never did like modern contraptions.” 

_Good night now._

“Good night, Elizabeth.” Sighing, Katsura picked up his game controller and selected a new game. “I suppose there are two lessons to be learned tonight: always return what you have borrowed and ask first before you borrow something.” 

Katsura reached Level Two before he fell asleep.


End file.
